


my blood

by dame_de_la_chance



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms
Genre: Fate & Destiny, Future Character Death, Gen, Selectively Mute Link (Legend of Zelda), Sign Language, and subsequent future, can we give this old man a fucking break, i hc wild and time as sm, in which twilight angst over his mentors past, not edited we die like men, obviously the character death is the hero’s shade, others r there of course, the others are prone to bouts of silence but not quite like that, why would u give a nine year old a sword
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-12
Updated: 2019-08-12
Packaged: 2020-08-19 19:11:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20214835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dame_de_la_chance/pseuds/dame_de_la_chance
Summary: After learning that Time created three separate timelines, Twilight’s desperate to know more about his mentor. He knows his future, but not his past. And eventually, he learns his past is just as sorrow filled as his future.





	my blood

**Author's Note:**

> top lyrics again

It’s interesting to see how their worlds click together, how their histories were conjoined at one point before splitting like a thread unraveling old cloth. It was fascinating to see how their worlds were connected together, to see where the timeline branches off and where it begins.

It was unanimous with all of them that they each had a Sky. He was the first of them, and was present in each time.

They also had Four. His story was a bit more muddled in the ink of history, not as well known as Sky, but certainly known. Each had a Four, each had a Sky, and both of their stories were the same in everyone’s time.

It was when they came to Time did everything split apart.

They managed to map it pretty well, considering. There were three main timelines: one where he died, one where he never technically drew the sword, and one where he disappeared. 

It was rather confusing, to say the least, especially since Time wasn’t too keen on dredging up the past. He wasn’t interested in divulging his Hyrule’s histories nor of his exploits, so some assumptions were made based on the lack of information. Still, occasionally he would throw a bone, and they would begin to see where his story went.

His story was the most muddled, because it technically never occurred in Twilight’s timeline. And while it happened in Wind’s, the flood washed away a lot of information. Legend’s timeline wasn’t too keen about their Hero, thanks to him failing.

But they managed to split the rest into three categories. Legend and Hyrule came from the ‘failed’ timeline. Twilight and Time came from the ‘child’ timeline, and Wind came from the ‘adult’ timeline. Warriors technically comes from a different timeline all together, and nobody is certain where to put Wild’s, since his time has articles from all three timelines. They currently believe that the timelines eventually merge back together to create Wild’s Hyrule.

Twilight thought the time map, as Wind called it, was rather fascinating. It was strange to think how ones actions could create separate timelines.

And it was also rather terrifying.

Time eventually gave a vague explanation of how the timelines formed, thanks to his timetraveling. He told the story like he was giving a mission report; stating facts, not experiences. He kept it short and concise, and refused to go back and explain himself.

When he first received the sword, it had rejected him because he was too young. So it sealed him in the Sacred Realm for a bit of time before letting him back out.

When he defeated Ganon, his Zelda used the ocarina of time to send him back to before he had been sealed away. This lead to the split; because she sent him away, there was now a timeline where they had no hero, which is where Wind comes from.

And now there was yet another timeline, where Time warns the royal family of Ganondorf’s inevitable betrayal, and prevents the events of the timeline.

In Hyrule and Legend’s timeline, he had simply been killed during the final battle. Again, a timeline was left without a hero, and while Ganon was eventually sealed, it was still left in shambles.

The explanation explained everything, and yet nothing. 

It explained Legend’s attitude, for certain. While not quite blatant, he held an obvious disdain towards Time. He was quick to question and offer rude comments anytime the old man would give any type of order or suggestion. It wasn’t quite hatred, but something simmering below that.

Hyrule wasn’t angry. He respected Time rather well. Given that the hero in his world died, he’s impressed that this one didn’t. The conflicting outlooks between them are rather fascinating, because both are right.

Twilight can’t say that he blames Legend for feeling the way he does, now that he sees his point of view. In his world, his supposed hero had failed. His job had been to save Hyrule, and yet he had failed his one job, and now his world suffered because of it. And now there was a man wearing the Hero’s face, who got to succeed and see the rewards of his success, while his world suffered.

Twilight and Legend had bumped heads more than once over this topic, before they had sorted out the timelines. Twilight had been mentored by this man, and couldn’t understand why Legend felt that he needed to constantly undermine him. Was respect such a hard thing to earn?

And Wind’s entire personality and reaction made sense. The Hero of Time was a legend in his world, because he had succeeded, and his story was remembered. And Wind had been trying to copy his role model in every way, which was kind of funny to watch now that his role model was alive and in the flesh before him. He was usually pretty subtle, but everybody could see the admiration in him no matter what Time did.

Warriors was from a different time, but everyone could see that there was a connection between Time’s timeline and Warriors. They did not explain, either because they didn’t deem it necessary or it was too personal.

Still, the heroes had a ton of questions to fire, but Time wouldn’t answer. He gave his explanation, and refused to veer away from the facts he had already told. It was a very Time thing to refuse to give any information about himself. He only did so once in a blue moon, and when he did, he was notorious for making offhanded comments that required context, and then refusing to give it. 

(The most infamous example would be when the question of ‘what’s the biggest thing you’ve ever fought?’ arose among the group, and Time had answered with ‘the moon’. All hell broke loose for days after, and Time did not budge. They are still trying to discern if it was a joke or not.)

So they tried to ask smaller questions. Questions that didn’t inherently matter to his story, but to them. They ask for minor details, a bit of clarification. Sometimes it worked, and Time would divulge, but other times, they weren’t so successful.

Time was a master of deflecting, a craft that thoroughly impressed Twilight as this point. The bastard could dodge questions with trained ease, and slip away from confrontations without breaking a sweat. 

Which brought them to the topic at hand, as they were gathered around the campfire: age. Specifically, the age in which they drew the Master Sword.

For most, the common age was about sixteen to seventeen. Though, a few had admitted to being twelve, like Wind. Time hadn’t said a word since the conversation first struck, and so Hyrule had gently tried to coerce some information and socialization out of him.

“So what age were you when you pulled out the Master Sword?” 

Time paused. He seemed to be mulling over his choices, and Twilight was certain that he was going to deflect. He answered, “That cursed thing accepted me when I turned sixteen.”

Now, Twilight wasn’t one to analyse people. A lot of the villagers in Ordona would probably call him a bit dense, but after hanging around his mentor, he couldn’t help but pick up on a few of his quirks.

The word choice was a bit... strange. Short and concise would have been to say sixteen, but he didn’t. He knew that there had been a bit of a gap before Time had been allowed to wield the sword, but he wasn’t sure how much. He clearly didn’t pull the sword out at sixteen.

Still, it wasn’t a lie either. The sword probably did finally let him wield it when he turned sixteen, but that wasn’t when he pulled it out. 

Hyrule seemed content with his answer. Nobody seemed to notice his word choice, except for Warriors. He almost looked ready to say something, like he was about to argue, before he clamped his mouth shut. And that surprised Twilight.... he knew they had crossed paths, everyone knew, but clearly they had met while Time was still adventuring.

Twilight knew that he was overthinking everything, but Hylia, he couldn’t help it. He was just so damn curious.

He was supposed to be the Time expert, according to Sky. But really, he didn’t know shit about the man. At least, not about his past. When he had studied under him, he had certainly picked up on a few personality quirks, among other things, but not much else. 

Besides, they weren’t quite the same, anyway. The Hero’s Shade and Time are two different people at this point, despite being the same person. The being he had met was a tortured soul who became consumed with terrible, terrible regret. A restless spirit who was cursed to not move on, to remain in Hyrule alone, battling his inner woes.

Time certainly had his ups and downs, but he wasn’t quite as desolate. Not yet, anyway. He still had his boyish humour, still had an air of hope to him, a willingness to let go. But whatever had sealed the Hero’s Shade’s fate, whatever occurs between this and the time he dies, had rocked him to his very core. Honestly, it hurt to know what would become of his friend...

In any case, though he knew his fate, he didn’t know him.

Twilight remained silent. He phased himself out of the conversation, listening idly while his mind wondered. They were now on the topic of which Master Sword was the coolest, and Sky was quick to jump on that train.

-

He gets a few answers a couple nights later.

They travelled to Wild’s time now, tucked away in a small part of the woods. Wild thinks that a village isn’t too far away, and they’ll get there within another day.

It’s nighttime now, and camp has been set. Each one of them has been tucked away, except for Time, who was keeping watch. And Twilight, who was lying in bed, unable to keep a hold on his racing thoughts.

The silence was broken by the shifting of blankets. Twilight watched as Wild slowly made his way from his make shift bed towards the fire, pretending to be asleep to give him some privacy. Wild sat down next to Time, a few feet away, watching him tend the fire.

They both remain quiet for some time, before Time simply asks, “Nightmare?” It was really more of a statement.

Wild nodded. Silence flitters over them again, and Twilight is beginning to wonder if Wild has fallen back asleep, and Wild whispers, “I... failed...”

He moves his hands, shaky and a bit slow at first, as he tries to organize his thoughts. Time and Wild were the only ones completely fluent in sign language; while the others were prone to bouts of silence, none of them were masters in sign language, because none of them needed to be. Twilight was still learning, and he wasn’t too terrible. He could read it pretty well, but he was shit at actually signing.

“I failed my Hyrule and my Zelda. My home was ravished because of my mistake and my friends all died because of me and they won’t leave me alone in my dreams because they keep telling me how much I keep failing and I know, I know, but it hurts and...”

His fingers stop. They had sped up exponentially as he tried to keep up with his thoughts, but now he fell silent. Time sighed and squeezed his shoulder.

“Wild, you’re not a failure. None of what happened could possibly be your fault. You didn’t destroy Hyrule, and you didn’t kill your friends. You saved Hyrule, slaying what you called the Calamity, and yes it took some time, but you saved it. You saved your Zelda and your Hyrule and avenged your friends. You didn’t fail.”

His words didn’t have the effect the were supposed to. Wild rough shook off Time’s hand, crossing his arms. There was a fire burning in his eyes, reflected not only by the flames before him but from something within. “What... do you know about... failing? You’re.... a legend.... you won... you don’t understand...”

His voice was hoarse and it cracked, but the malice dripping certainly wasn’t unnoticed. Time remained silent, staring into the fire, his expression carefully blank.

The heat of the moment seemed to slip away. The fire was snuffed as quickly as it started. Wild’s sign was messy but heartfelt as he realised his mistake. “Shit, I shouldn’t have said that, I’m sorry. That...”

He trailed off. His expression was entirely apologetic. Time lifted his hands, stared at them for a moment, before he began to sign back.

“Don’t worry about it.”

Another silence. Wild seemed to be vibrating in anticipation. He knew Time wasn’t finished yet, and he was desperate to hear what he had to say, whether it was a reprimand or something else.

“Obviously, what happened to either of us can’t fully be compared...” Time’s signs are almost meticulously done, strangely steady. “But I have to say, your story is a bit familiar to mine. I was nine when I was chosen to wield the Master Sword. And of course, a nine year old is going to make plenty mistakes.

“My Zelda was barely a year older than me. We conspired to open the Door to Time, where the Master Sword was. When I released the sword, two things happened; one, Ganondorf was able to enter the Sacred Realm and gain access to the Triforce. Two, I was sealed into a deep sleep for seven years until I was old enough to handle the sword.”

Time paused. He leaned on his knees, clamping his hands together. It was something he did often to hide his shaking hands. Wild’s eyes were wide with wonder and guilt and sorrow.

“So for seven years, Ganondorf has complete control over my Hyrule, and he devastated the place. It’s not the same as a hundred years, but fuck... he did a lot of damage. It was like walking through a ghost town, with the undead at every corner...” He trailed off, looking uncertain. “And I’d let this happen. My home, my friend’s homes, they were all ruined. People died because of me... because I was too young.”

Wild opened his mouth, but Time shook his head. “But that’s not really my fault, is it?”

“No!”

“Then it’s not your fault either.” Time sighs. “It’s impossible to compare traumas, because every situation isn’t the same as another. However, ours are similar enough. I can empathize with what you feel, and I’ve got to tell you, it’s completely wrong.”

Wild looked uncertain. He looked like he wanted to argue, but he remained silent. Time continued. “I spent most of my life mourning my failures, but really, they weren’t mine. The Master Sword shouldn’t have chosen me so young. Ganondorf shouldn’t have destroyed my home. The king shouldn’t have trusted Ganondorf. I made mistakes, but the hand that killed my friends.... it wasn’t mine. It was Ganon’s. And the same is true for you. Ganon is the one who destroyed your home, who killed your friends. He’s the one responsible, not you. Do you understand?”

Wild stared at the fire. “Yes.”

“It takes time to let it sink in.” Time pulls him into a small hug, a rarity from the old man. He’s not completely adverse to touch, but he always seemed a bit nervous to initiate. “You might not truly understand now, and maybe not in a few years. But you can’t let that guilt consume you. You can’t let the regret burden your soul and chain you down. You have to learn to let go.”

Something in Twilight aches at those words. It’s ironic, twisted and terrible. Because that’s exactly what happens to him. He will become consumed with regret and guilt and will let it chain him down.

He aches.

Wild whisper’s a soft, “Thank you.”

Time gives him a smile. “No problem. Now, I think Twilight is awake, and I hear he’s a big cuddler, so go sleeep with him tonight. He’ll protect you from anymore bad dreams.”

Twilight snaps his head up, surprised. Time sends him a wink, and Wild blinks at him in surprise. What a strange old man...

But by the end of the night, Twilight and Wild are tucked in tight, curled against each other. And Twilight’s mind finally settles down, and he feels himself drifting. The last thing he sees is Time mending the fire, a sad smile on his face.

-

More answers come a few weeks later.

They are in Time’s Hyrule now. Time breaks the unfortunate news: they are nowhere near Lon Lon Ranch. It will be a multiple day trip through the Lost Woods before they would see the ranch again. He is met with long groans and squashed hope. Everybody loves Malon.

Twilight notices the scenery is becoming a bit burdensome for Time, though he won’t admit anything. Once, they come across a small clearing, and there is a large stump in the middle. Time comes to a grinding halt, causing Hyrule to bump into him, and the Links behind him to smack against him like dominos. 

Time stares at it for a long while, before continuing on his way.

They make camp not long after. The sun sets quicker now, as it seems to be nearing autumn in his Hyrule. The grass is dryer, the leaves are a bit orange, and the smell of fall is beginning to linger in their nostrils.

Twilight is up for watch when he hears rustling. Idly, he recognises it as the sound of blankets, but it still puts him on edge. He grabs the hilt of his sword and glanced over the compound with an analytical gaze. Nothing is amiss.

Not true. He looks again and spies that Time’s bed is empty. He isn’t worried; the old man probably had to take a leak. 

He feels a presence next to him, and shifts. Time is sitting on the ground next to him, a few feet away. He was staring absently into the fire, rubbing his scarred eye. 

Twilight suppressed a jump. Time sure was fucking stealthy for a man who wears a full set of armour and chain link and who’s taller than most of them by feet. 

“You alright?” Twilight asked. It slipped out on reflex, almost like a conversational starter. 

Time grunted. “Yeah, yeah.” He moved one of the logs in the fire, causing sparks to filled the night air like blinking lightning bugs. The fire roared in response, growing bigger as he shifted.

A silence lapses between them. It wasn’t comfortable, not to Twilight at least. In fact, the air felt oppressively heavy with the tension between them. He wasn’t quite sure what to do, really. His experience in confort was with children; really, he’d only ever had offer it to Colin, and he was easy to coerce into relaxing and being comforted.

Maybe Time didn’t even want comfort. Maybe he didn’t need it. Maybe he woke up at ass o’clock just because. 

Twilight bounced his leg. He was practically vibrating in his seat, unspoken questions threatening to slip out. He tried to remain clam, but for some reason his anxiety was spiking more than usual. The anticipation was slowly killing him.

“Nightmare?” He finally lets slip. Time doesn’t look at him, and doesn’t even seem to react. His gaze stretched far past the forest, into something only he can see.

“Yes,” he finally answered, because Time could never lie. It was a quirk Twilight had picked up on very quick, because it stood out to him the most. Time had never once lie, and practically seemed unable to. Though often he spoke in half truths, he never once lied. It reminded him of Colin when he was younger, unable to keep a secret, unable to speak anything but honesty, which often got him in trouble, really. 

Twilight hesitated. “Do you... want to talk about it?”

Time went silent. His face was empty, though that was nothing knew. He often slipped into a mask of stoicism, and Twilight knew he hadn’t learned that from his training as a knight. It was always hard to sense an emotion on him give his often expressionless face, but Twilight has spent his time trying to read a skeleton, so he figured it out eventually. 

Slowly, Time nodded his head. He brought up his fingers before clasping them together, almost like a prayer. But that simile wasn’t what he was doing, because Twilight knows he had long since stopped praying to the Goddesses. Twilight doesn’t really blame him. 

Again, he was trying to keep his hands from shaking. He was trying to calm down before he spoke. Twilight didn’t mind the silence this time. He could wait.

“I-“ His fingers were shaking as he moved them. Twilight watched as he signed. Time usually wasn’t prone to bouts of muteness, apparently not as much as when he was a child. Still, occasionally, unsettling reminders of his past could trigger it, and he would begin to sign instead. It happened a few times, and nobody minded. Even Legend never made a snide comment, which had been Twilight’s greatest fear. “Remember how I said I fought the moon?”

Twilight nodded. “That was pretty hard to forget. I had to sit through Wind’s conspiracy theories after you said that.”

A halting laugh escaped his lips. That was a good sign. “He’s always had quite the imagination...” He paused, the slight smile on his face dying like embers. “When I was younger, about ten, I tried to stop a town from being destroyed. The moon kept falling from the sky, and I had three days to stop it before it crashed into the town, Clock Town. My Zelda has given me the ocarina of time again, and I used it over and over to create the perfect timeline to save the residents of Clock Town.”

He released a shaky breath. “Of course, eventually I was able to figure it out. I stopped the moon from crashing. I saved a kid who got corrupted from dark magic. It all worked out.”

He stopped, and pressed his hands together. He was watching the moon with weary eyes, and that had been another tick Twilight had noticed. Whenever they traveled at night, Time always sent a wary look to the moon above, like he was distrustful of it. Now he understood why.

“It... took a long time.... to figure things out... sometimes, when I reset the timeline... I wasn’t quite fast enough... sometimes I watched the moon crash right into Clock Town...” His words were halting and slow. “Sometimes, I couldn’t save everyone.”

Twilight let the words sink in. He hates the implications of those words. Watching apocalypse happen, again and again, unable to stop it, unable to fix whatever the fuck had gone wrong in time, over and over... Twlight’s hands balled into fists.

“Sometimes, I can still feel the earth start to quake. Sometimes, I feel the hotness of the raging fires. I hear the screams of my friends, I-“ He cut himself off, staring at the fire. “I guess I dreamt of a failed timeline.”

Silence passed. Twilight didn’t know what to say. “But you saved them all... that’s what matters. The timeline that succeeded, that’s what matters.”

“Yeah.” Time let out a soft breath, though there was a bitter look in his eyes. “But nobody even knew they were saved. All those other timelines were erased, and when I finally did save them, they couldn’t even remember...”

He closes his eye and remains silent. He’s said all that he’s wanted to say, and this is all he’ll probabaly get. 

Twilight thinks he can understand why he becomes the Hero’s Shade, now. Every one of his exploits gets erased from existance; no one remembers the sacrifices he made, the work he put into saving everyone. Twilight knows he’s still holding back information, he knows this isn’t everything, that this has only scratched the surface of what happened, and that makes him even sadder.

The Heroms Shade was corrupted with regret, with the desire to leave a legacy. He was desperate to be remembered, to finally have someone understand all the work he did, all the blood and sweat he lost. He was desperate to leave a legacy, to teach his children all that he knows, to tell his stories, to keep them alive.

Something cold coiled inside of Twilight at the thought of children. He had asked the Hero’s Shade once, if he’d had any kids. ‘I don’t think I can call myself a father’ was all he said on the matter. He had assumed he never had kids.

But he was his descendant, which meant he obviously would. But if Time hadn’t thought of himself as a father, and he hadn’t been able to teach any of his skills to his kids, and he died pretty young... 

Twilight scooted closer to his mentor, and wrapped and arm around his shoulders. He was thinking too hard, and not about the topic at hand. Time froze for a moment, before leaning into the one handed hug. He sighed.

He spoke. “I suppose it’s only natural to feel regret, isn’t it? When you know there’s so much you could have done, but it took you so long to figure out how to do it.”

“Yeah.” Twilight squeezes him a bit. “But you won. And that’s really what matters. Not all the what if’s, but the reality.”

“Of course. There’s no point in lingering in the past.” He was touching his eye scar with a gentle tenderness. 

Twilight’s heart ached a bit at that. It aches and it aches and it aches for his friend. He would linger in the past. He would become trapped in it, full of regret over his actions and life, and he would get stuck in the future with him, but really he was still wandering in the Lost Woods to save his Hyrule, or wandering through Clock Town with a looming moon. Or he was stuck on what had taken his eye, or what had killed him in the first place. 

His heart ached. “I’m sorry.”

“No reason to be.” He laid himself flat on the ground. 

Maybe not. But he was sorry for the future he had to look foreword to, one filled with only sorrow and loss. Idly, Twilight couldn’t help but wonder when the Hero’s Shade died. How much time did Time have before he would become consumed with regret, before he would die as a nameless corpse on the battle field? How much time before Time became the Hero’s Shade?

He could feel tears pricking his eyes. He leaned into his shoulder, trying to remain calm, but he was filled with an overwhelming sadness. Everything in him ached for his friend. For his future.

They sat there together, leaning into each other, watching the dying night turn into dawn. He remained silent as the crackling of the fire began to die out, as the light of the sun began to make its way up in the sky. Twilight was supposed to wake up Warriors for the last watch, but he didn’t move.

Neither of them did. They laid there, each Lost in their own mind. Twilight tried to think of something to say, to reassure the man, to offer him some peace. Time had been adamant in not wanting to know his future, and Twilight finally understood. Did he know that he had nothing to look foreword to? Did he fear confirmation?

Time fell back asleep. He would have to wake him back up in a little less than an hour, and he felt rather bad for that. He hoped his dreams were more peaceful, full of memories of Malon instead of his failures.

How haunting that must be, to remember each time you failed? To remember the collapse of a town under the wake of an apocalyptic event? To remember the screams of your friends who wouldn’t remember you the next time you saw them? Who wouldn’t remember you at all, remember all the times you laughed together, cried together, talked together? To remember each time another bond forms only to lose it again and again?

To watch the moon collide into the earth again and again? To watch your friends die again and again?

How old was he? Ten? To literally carry the world on his shoulders at ten? 

To have already been battle hardened at nine before that? To have lost seven years after making a mistake because you were fucking nine years old, and wake up to a world ravaged by your worst enemy, who you accidentally allowed to win? To be in a body that’s yours but not quite yours, in something completely unfamiliar yet familiar? 

To know that those actions impacted every person you are now living with? To know that nearly all the timelines you created the hero, you, failed or disappeared in? To know that those actions cause something horrific to happen?

The thoughts simmered on and on. Twilight’s growing unease continued to boil. He couldn’t imagine carrying the fate of the world as a child, couldn’t imagine realising how much those actions impacted everyone around you. 

He stared at the rising sun. No wonder Time never prayed. The Goddesses seemed to have abandoned him long ago. They used him as a tool to fulfill a prophecy and seemed to be dead set on getting rid of him once he fulfilled his purpose. But he kept surviving, surviving, surviving until his luck would run out and he’d die alone on the battlefield, nameless and forgotten, leaving behind a wife and at least one child, who was probabaly still so young.

No wonder he didn’t want to know his future. He already had a shit past. Why get his hopes up only to be disappointed? (And disappointment was all he would find).

Twilight cursed every Goddess he could think of. He cursed the Master Swird, he cursed Hylia, Farore, Nayru, and Din. He cursed Ganondorf and Demise and any other divine power he had missed. He cursed fate and destiny and the first Link who had ensured their tragic fates of reincarnation.

He glanced at Time, tears brimming in his eyes. Sorrow filled his entire soul for his friend, and it felt like an intensive wave of anguish had washed over him. Funny, how easy it was to become overwhelmed with emotions for other people’s suffering, past and future.

“I’m sorry.”

**Author's Note:**

> yeah idk ocarina of time makes me hella sad 
> 
> tbh i hc that majoras mask would be something time keeps silent about, very close to his heart. I think he’d have told Malon, and maybe Zelda but nothing in great detail.


End file.
